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ladykailitha · 7 months

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Fake Boyfriend Part 1

This was going to be an AO3 exclusive until I found out I couldn't do the strikethrough coding for the titles over there and until I think of one that works as well as this one does, it goes here first. There is a second part that will be posted on Tuesday as it got a tad too long for Tumblr (clocking out at over 3k).

Summary: After most of the older teens have gone off to college, Eddie goes over to Steve's to hang out. When he finds Steve on the phone with one of his co-workers, he tells Steve to pretend Eddie is his boyfriend to get the guy to back off via notes on his notebook. It works better than he could possibly dream as the more Steve describes his "boyfriend" the more it sounds real.

***

Eddie let himself into the Harrington mansion like he always did, backpack slung over his shoulder. Steve and he was long since past caring about knocking on each others’ houses’ doors. Bedrooms on the other hand were sacrosanct and closed doors were to be respected at all times, but their houses? Open invitation. Always.

He went straight to the kitchen because if Steve was going to be anywhere in that labyrinthine house of his, it was going to be the kitchen. He entered through the open doorway just as Steve snapped.

“Fuck you!” he growled.

Eddie frowned. “Hey!”

Steve turned and he could see that Steve was on the phone with someone. The other man mouthed, ‘Sorry!’ when he spotted Eddie in the doorway.

“I gave you this number for work purposes only,” Steve continued with a sigh. “I’m just not interested in you, Caleb. How many times do I have to tell you?”

Understanding slowly dawned over Eddie. He knew who Steve was talking to now. Caleb worked at the same hair salon Steve did and was constant thorn in Steve’s side. Always flirting with him and just generally making Steve uncomfortable.

He ripped the backpack off of his shoulder and started digging around. He pulled out a notebook and a pen. He turned to a blank page and wrote: TELL HIM YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND

Steve looked at the sign with a frown of confusion. ‘But I don’t’ he mouthed back.

Eddie pointed at himself.

Steve chewed on his thumb for a moment before he nodded. “Caleb!” he said interrupting the other man’s stream of consciousness that he was just spewing at Steve on the end of the line. “Look. I didn’t want to have to pull this card because ‘no’ is a complete sentence, but I have a boyfriend.”

Eddie gave him a thumbs up.

“I haven’t brought him up before because he’s not out–”

Eddie scoffed, smirking with a raised eyebrow.

“I mean we’re not out as a couple to our friends and family,” Steve amended, sticking his tongue out at him. “Of course they know I’m bisexual and he’s gay, they just don’t know that we’ve been dating.”

That was certainly true, especially considering that they weren’t actually dating.

Eddie scribbled another note: WAYNE

“Well,” Steve said with a huff of laughter, “his uncle knows, but my parents don’t.”

Eddie started on another note, but Steve beat him to it. “It’s a small house and thin walls, the dude was going to find out sooner or later.”

Eddie nearly choked on his own tongue. His eyes nearly bulged out of his head in shock.

Steve laughed. “And have my parents walk in on us? Fuck that. I trust his Uncle Wayne way more than I do my parents.”

Eddie looked down at the half-written message that would have spelled out TRUST with a fond smile on his face.

Steve rolled his eyes. “What do you mean you want me to prove he exists? Like describe him or something?”

Eddie jotted down another note: PERSISTANT BASTARD

Steve slammed a hand over his mouth to cover the laugh that bubbled to his lips.

He cleared his throat. “So are we talking looks or personality?” he asked. “Because I could go on about both.”

Eddie raised an eyebrow, causing Steve’s cheeks flush.

“Looks?” Steve asked, his voice a little high at the absurdity of it all. “Oh. Wow. Yeah. He’s got the most amazingly soulful brown eyes I’ve ever seen outside of the movies. I’ve heard people describe them as doe-eyed or puppy-dog eyes. They aren’t bad descriptions, just... not close enough. I don’t think there is a word or phrase that matches their glory.”

Eddie shoved his hair in front of mouth to hide his embarrassment. Steve took a step toward him.

“He has long hair in soft curly locks that frame his face,” Steve continued and Eddie dropped the aforementioned lock, choosing to duck his head, and look away, rocking back on his heels.

Steve took another step forward. “He has these dimples that just light up his whole countenance when he smiles. They are the single most kissable part of his face, if you don’t include his lips.”

Eddie’s mind was spinning out of control, because there was no way Steve was making this up on the spot. These had to be things Steve had actually thought about.

But Steve wasn’t done talking. “He’s whipcord thin, but don’t let that fool you. He is strong, so strong.”

Eddie head jerked up and stared at Steve in amazement.

The other boy ducked his head, twirling his fingers around the phone cord. “I told you could go on and on about his looks, man. I could tell you about how long his eyelashes are or his legs that give him this causal sensuality that should be fucking illegal.”

Eddie didn’t think he could get any redder. He was so, so wrong.

“You want me to wax poetic about his personality now?” Steve asked incredulously. “No, I’m not describing Jon Bon Jovi. He’d be offended at the comparison. Eddie Van Halen is closer to the mark, or maybe Kirk Hemmett if you really make him blush.”

Cue Eddie’s blush burning his ears and flushing his throat; a part of his body that was refusing to do what it was supposed to and fucking allow breath to enter his lungs.

“What’s he like?” Steve breathed and Eddie was instantly jealous of his ability to do so. “He is so smart.”

Eddie snorted divisively.

“The school system may have failed him more times then I care to count,” Steve insisted, “but god, he is so clever, coming up with stories on fly. He has all this knowledge of so many things. He learned elvish and is learning dwarfish.” He snorted. “Because he can.”

Eddie blushed. Even his friends from Hellfire and Corroded Coffin thought he was a little insane trying to learn those languages. Not Steve, apparently.

“He uses it for his D&D games–campaigns, sorry,” Steve said, more to Eddie then to Caleb. Eddie mouthed ‘It’s okay.’ And Steve lit up with the brightest smile.

He took another step forward. “You know those kids that come into the store all the time?” Steve burst out laughing. “Yes, my kids. He loves them as much as I do. Maybe even more.”

Eddie scrambled to write another note: NOT POSSIBLE

Steve blushed this time. “Understands them better, certainly.”

Eddie cocked his head to the side and half shrugged. That was fair.

“He DMs for them every week,” Steve continued. “DM? Oh that stands for dungeon master. It’s like the storyteller or master of the story. He sets the path for the characters to follow or blatantly ignore.”

Eddie huffed out a laugh.

“He does the voices for each person the party meets and it always makes me laugh,” Steve said. “My favorite is the voice he did for the princess. I don’t think there was a dry eye from all the laughing everyone was doing.”

Eddie grinned. That was his favorite, too. He had done it to make Steve laugh, the fact that it had made everyone else laugh too was just icing on the cake.

“Which, of course, impressed Dustin,” Steve said. He paused. “Oh Dustin is the one with curly hair and those hats.”

Eddie rolled his eyes. That’s another strike against this Caleb dude, not knowing the names of Steve’s kids. Like they came as a packaged deal. Everyone knew that.

Steve cleared his throat and looked down as he too felt Caleb’s disinterest keenly as well. “Anyway, anyone who can impress that little butthead is number one in my book.”

Eddie smiled tenderly at Steve before he jotted down a note again. YOU IMPRESS HIM TOO.

Steve blushed. “He can take his talent for story telling into song writing as well. He might not be the singer of his band–” There was another pause. “Yeah, an honest to god, plays at The Hideout every Tuesday metal band. He plays guitar. Lead, not rhythm. His best friend Jeff is rhythm guitar and their lead singer. He can read music and learn a song by ear. Do you know how fucking rare that is? To be able to do both? Trust me, it’s rare, okay?”

“Look, Caleb,” Steve growled, “don’t get pissy with me. You asked me describe my boyfriend. I warned you that I could go on and on.”

Eddie could barely breathe. This was starting to feel less like an excuse to get this asshole to stop harassing Steve and more and more real with every compliment that came out of his friend’s mouth.

Steve’s own breath caught in his chest. He looked directly at Eddie, so full of adoration, Eddie was sure his heart full on stopped.

“Yeah, of course I do,” Steve murmured, “of course I love him. God, how could I not. He means everything to me.” He tried to step forward but the cord got caught in his fingers, so he unwrapped it and took a final step toward Eddie. The cord was now taut, stretched as far as it could go.

Eddie could tell that the scant two feet between them was too far for Steve, but he was tethered to phone. He knew that that ache and longing in Steve’s face mirrored his own expression.

“And I am so grateful I get to call him mine...” Steve finished, his breath shallow as he fought to get his heart rate under control.

Permanent Tag List: @spectrum-spectre @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @artiststarme @swimmingbirdrunningrock @gregre369 @pyrohonk @chaosgremlinmunson @goodolefashionedloverboi @chaoticlovingdreamer @maya-custodios-dionach @messrs-weasley @val-from-lawrence @a-little-unsteddie @i-must-potato @danili666 @carlyv @rozzieroos @wonderland-girl143-blog @itsall-taken @justforthedead89 @emly03 @bookworm0690 @bookbinderbitch @littlewildflowerkitten @vecnuthy @redfreckledwolf @scheodingers-muppet @mira-jadeamethyst

***

Part 2

#my writing #stranger things #steddie #ladykailtiha writes #fake relationship #for all of ten minutes #because they dorks are that far gone for each other

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gimmethatagustd · 1 year

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the wannabe-photographer chronicles (masterlist) | kth

You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s hipster, wannabe-photographer ass. You’re so tired of Kim Taehyung’s stupid smile and stupid jokes and stupid way of getting under your skin and sticking in your brain.

○ Pairing: Taehyung x Reader

○ Rating: Explicit/18+

○ Genre: Frenemies to lovers, sex work, fluff (?), smut

○ Status: Complete (4/4)

○ Warnings: Explicit smut, Taehyung is Annoying but Hot, each chapter has individual warnings

○ Notes: Am i stupid? yes! yes i am! i'm an idiot. pls enjoy what has unintentionally turned into a 3-part mini-series of idiocracy. i mostly made this post to free up space on my main masterlist, so i can just link everything to one post. dedicated to @taehyungcentral & @norushtolive 💜

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

Wanna Fuck On Camera

3.3k | July 5, 2022

Wanna Make A Movie

3.7k | September 29, 2022

Wanna Watch A Sex Tape (ft. Jimin)

6.9k | August 13, 2023

Wanna Stream A Porno

4.8k | February 14, 2024

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories.

All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). Request an AO3 account here.

#taehyung x reader #bts x reader #taehyung fanfic #bts fanfic #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #bts smut #bts fluff #the wannabe photographer chronicles #jai writes #gimmethatagustd #wmam #wfoc #wwast #wsap

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thefreakandthehair · 6 months

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@eddiemonth prompt, oct 18th: Journaling | Twin Size Mattress - The Front Bottoms | Introspective a/n: eddie first-person pov, stream of consciousness, post-canon fix-it, canon-typical injuries and recovery, pining, pre-steddie. this one will get a second part the week of halloween! un-betaed because I'm challenging myself to write these in under an hour. read on ao3 + masterpost | tumblr masterlist

October, 1986

It’s been awhile, huh? So many blank pages between March and now. It’s kinda weird because so much has happened— things I can’t even write because of the stupid fucking NDA— but blank pages are fitting because I don’t know what to write anyways.

The hospital sucked. That’s probably obvious, especially when you’re innocent of something for once but everyone’s convinced you’re a murderer. Thank God for Wayne and Steve, pretty sure they would’ve accidentally pulled a plug or something before I woke up from the coma. I don’t have all the details, but I guess after Max woke up, Steve moved his cot into my room and struck up a pretty weird friendship with Wayne. Not sure how I feel about that yet, but he’s been around a lot more. Even now. Not sure how I feel about that yet, either.

Our trailer was wrecked but the government gave us a new one for those NDA-related reasons. Being in Hawkins is still fucking rough, kinda feels like I’m drowning most of the time, but I got a queen sized bed now. That’s a plus. Be better if Steve someone shared it with me but that’s asking for too much, right?

Survival’s a tricky thing when you make peace with the fact that you’re about to bite the dust. If I ever start writing songs again, I oughta save that line. But it is. I’m home now, the town’s rebuilding, the kids are back in school, and life moves on but what the fuck do I do with myself?

They gave me a diploma and shoved me out the door, which is great and all, but no one wants to hire the Freak Murderer. Trust me. I’ve tried. Wayne tried getting me in at the factory and was laughed damn near out the building. Robin and Steve tried getting me in at the video store but not even those two could convince that asshat, Keith. And selling is out now. That’s a given.

So what do I do? Hell if I know. But at least I’ve got pen and paper, and a new guitar to replace Sweetheart (RIP). Steve said everyone pitched in but Dustin can’t keep his mouth shut, so I know that was all Steve…

Shit. I’m writing his name a lot. That’s a bad sign. I should stop.

So yeah, pen and paper, new guitar, I’ve made so many fucking mixtapes to pass the time. And at least I’m home in time for Halloween. I wonder if horror movies will be as much fun now that I’ve been the victim of a real life slasher flick.

Guess I’ll find out.

#steddie fanfiction #eddie munson #eddie munson fic #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #steve harrington #eddie month #stranger things #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fanfiction #eddie month prompts #myblurbs

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peach-and-bugs · 10 months

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Could you do an adult Van x reader with 10? Where the reader was in the crash and takes their niece to the video store nearby where she lives not knowing that Van works there.

🧡While You Were Streaming - Van Palmer x fem!Reader🧡

Fanfiction master list

disclaimer: don't repost my work. I only post on Tumblr and on Ao3. anything else is stolen and should be removed immediately

Summary: You're niece who's staying with you for a while convinces you to go into a store you haven't visited before in town only for you to meet a familiar face

Warnings: mention of divorce

Word Count: 2,073

A/N: Hello Loves! I finally got another fic for Van finished! Ya'll seem to really love how I write her and that makes me extremely happy because I adore my tall ginger autistic butch lesbian so much! This was such a cute request to write because I adore writing about kids and I think this gave a taste of what Aunt Van is like. but that's all I've got for right now! As always, feel free to leave questions or comments in my comments or ask box, and happy reading! 🧡

Vanessa "Van" Palmer Tag List: @blairfox04 @kyleeservopoulos

Yellowjackets Tag List: @frasersgf @minimickzy @damagnificentcookie

General Tag List: @summergeezburr

-🧡-

You loved your eight-year-old niece. You truly did, and noone could get you to say otherwise. But after this long weekend of her staying over, you felt like you were at your wits' end, but in no way was it her fault. Your sister was going through a messy split with her husband and had passed their daughter off to you so she didn’t need to be around listening and watching everything happen. But this meant you had to care for and occupy your niece on top of working from home and you’d both started to develop a bit of cabin fever. So, you'd gone on a walk together under your big umbrella due to the sprinkling of rain coming down.

You’re niece, Addy, was excitedly running ahead on the sidewalk, jumping into puddles and soaking her sneakers with the biggest smile on her face. You couldn’t help but smile yourself. Her mood had been very up and down these last few days due to everything going on at home. It was good to see her smile.

“Hey! Auntie y/n! What’s that store?” Addy yelled. She’d run up ahead and stood at the corner of the street, pointing to a standalone shop in town. You squinted, readjusting the umbrella that obstructed your view of the shop as you caught up to her. She waited patiently as you read the sign across the street.

“While You Were Streaming” you read out loud, a tone of consideration in your voice.

“What kind of store is it?” Addy asked as she took your hand.

“Pretty sure it's a video store,”

“What’s a video store?” She looked up at you with a funny furrow on her brow. Addy was young enough that she’s probably never seen a vhs tape in her life.

“When your mom and I were growing up we didn’t have tv like you do. If we wanted to watch a movie, we had to borrow it from the library or a video store,” you tried your best to explain. Addy stared at the store from across thoughtfully, like she was trying to wrap her little head around the whole idea.

“Can we go in?” She didn’t look up at you when she asked. You couldn't help but smile, trying to suppress a small chuckle.

“I dunno how interested you’d be, hun,” She looked up at you with a confident look that also seemed mildly offended.

“Please,” She began to pout and there was no way you could tell her no now. You smiled and nodded, pushing the button for the crosswalk beside you.

“We’ll do whatever you like, baby,” You felt Addy excitedly squeeze at your hand and start to tug at you to walk when the crosswalk turned on and no cars were coming. Her little feet splashed on the concrete of the street as you hustled to follow her. She began to bounce up and down as you approached the store, waiting as patiently as she could for you to shut your umbrella so she could run inside.

Upon entering the store there was a jingle of a bell on the door and you felt like you’d been thrust back to your senior year of high school in ‘96. The walls were lined with mounted records, VHS tapes, and other vintage memorabilia. Noone was in the main room, though they were open, so you decided to stay close to Addy till someone did show up, not wanting them to be alarmed by an eight-year-old running a muck through their store. Addy stood still for a moment, looking around the shop with mesmerized eyes.

“Wow! This is so cool!” she gushed before a shelf of vintage toys caught her eye. “Oh, look at this auntie!” she squeaked, pressing her fingers to the glass as she pointed to an old strawberry shortcake doll. You chuckled and followed her, leaning down to her level to look into the case.

“Yeah, I had one just like it growing up,” you murmured.

“Really?” you nodded.

“She smelled like strawberries,” Addy whispered with mesmerized eyes, turning back to the doll. You heard a rustling sound in what you assumed was the back and stood up fully, but stayed at Addy’s side. After a minute there was some loud bumbling in the back till a figure emerged with a large box in hand with another box stacked on top. They were on the other side of the room, clearly attempting to move the boxes through the crowded shop with little success.

“Need a hand?” you offered as they stumbled a bit. You could see them try and catch a look at you from behind the box before letting go of a sigh.

“Um, yeah. I could I think,” you patted Addy’s shoulder, silently letting her know to stay put before moving to take the second from who you could only assume was the store owner.

“Where do you want it?” you asked while taking the box.

“Just over by the register is fine,” you'd already started to turn away from them as they spoke, so you missed their face. You carried the box to the register as instructed and placed it on the floor. They followed and did the same and it wasn’t till you stood back up, brushing loose hair from your eyes that you froze. “Holy shit,” the redhead said, running a hand through her hair as she looked you up and down.

“Van?” you could barely make out her name from surprise. She looked too different. So much older.

“Yeah, in the flesh,” she wet her lip and gave you a familiar stupid grin that had you chuckling. She stepped forward and offered her arms open. You tentatively moved forward and hugged her. She still hugged the same. “Damn, how long has it been?” she asked, her hands resting comfortably on your biceps as you moved back from the hug. You felt yourself grow shy under her eyes.

“Probably about 25 years,” you scoffed, running your fingers behind your ear as she moved her hands to her hips with a nod.

“So, how've you been? What are you doing here?” she moved behind the register and leaned down, pulling tapes out of the boxes you'd helped move.

“I moved into a place just outside of town a couple months ago now,” She smiled, stopping what she was doing and leaning casually against the counter with a tilt of her head.

“Huh, small world, it’s it,” You shrugged and nodded your head, lips parted to continue talking till a small force shoved into your side.

“y/n look at this!” Addy ran up to you again with a book in her hands. It looked like an encyclopedia of old toys maybe. You smiled, running your hand over her hair.

“That’s very cool, baby,”

“They’re are a tone of other ones too! Can I keep looking?” she asked with a big smile. She excitedly scampered away and you turned back to Van who has a surprised expression.

“You had a kid?” she had a wicked smile on her face as she asked, as though the thought of you as a mother was bewildering. You scrunched your nose and rolled your eyes, walking closer to the counter.

“Oh, please. When have I ever come across as a person that takes any interest in children to you?" Van’s eyes sparkled with familiarity.

“I can’t believe you remember that,” she chuckled, recalling the time back when you were teenagers and you were telling her all about being forced to watch your little cousins at an old family reunion.

“My mind’s a steel trap,” you quipped, turning to check on Addy, who was flipping through another book. “But no, she’s my sister's kid. She’s staying over for the weekend,”

“That’s gotta be fun,” Van said, continuing the conversation as she organized her tapes. You leaned on the counter with crossed arms and sighed.

“It is, but I wish it was under better circumstances,” Van’s eyes traced over you, inviting you to keep going. “My sister’s stuck in this messy divorce. She didn’t want Addy seeing it if it got ugly,” Van hummed in understanding and her lips flickered into a frown. Just then Addy ran up again with something new in her hand.

“Auntie! Look at this,” she proudly held up an old wonder woman comic book wrapped in plastic in her hands. “It’s just like the ones daddy has!” she squealed. Van smiled, leaning across the counter with crossed arms.

“You a wonder woman fan?” she asked. Addy paused, getting nervous till you ran your hand across her back and smiled down at her.

“Addy, this is my friend, Vanessa,” Your niece perked up realizing Van wasn’t actually a stranger and she grinned again.

“Yeah! Daddy showed me her movie and it was awesome!” Van chuckled, her eyes darting up to you and then back to Addy.

“She was one of my favorite heroes growing up too,”

“You wanna get that, baby?” you asked Addy, patting her back.

“Really? Can I?” You smiled, nodding as you gestured for her to hand you the comic. She instead slid it onto the counter towards Van, but before ringing you up, Van held up a finger, asking you to wait a moment while she slipped into the back. She returned quickly with another comic in hand. She started ringing you up, but she didn’t scan the second comic she’d grabbed. She bagged everything, pausing with the second comic in hand, and smiled at Addy, giving her a wink.

“On the house,” she murmured, adding the comic to the bag. You gave her your card, finishing up the purchase. Van additionally nudged a bowl of candy next to the register toward Addy. Your niece looked up at you and you gave her a nod letting her know it was ok. She grabbed a lollypop and snatched the bag from your hand.

“Addy, wait for me,” You called after her as she pushed the door to the shop open, making the bell ring again.

“Can I sit on the bench?” she pointed to a bench sitting right in front of the shop's window.

“Alright, but don’t move,” She nodded and rushed outside, letting the door ring the bell again as it shut. You turned your attention back to Van. “thanks for that. It was very nice,” you nodded your head in the direction Addy had run out. Van shrugged, leaning on the counter behind her with crossed arms.

“It’s no problem. Sometimes I’d rather give something away to someone who’ll love it rather than someone who’s gonna stuff it in a box,” She paused, eyes training on you, studying you with a hard, yet warm intensity. “It’s really nice seeing you,” she finally said. Her eyes darted up your face, meeting your eyes again. You weren’t sure what part of you she’d fixated on prior, but you couldn’t mind it.

“I could always see you again…” you dared, speaking on impulse rather than thought. The redhead’s smile flickered and without a word, she reached for something tucked behind her register. She brought out a Post-it note and a pen and started scribbling, then she handed the note to you. In her chicken scratch handwriting, you read what you had to assume was her number.

“Don’t leave me hanging,” she smiled as she spoke, but there was a shyness to her words, as though despite the bold confidence she always carried, she was nervous you wouldn’t reciprocate. You held the note in your hands and had to stifle your grin.

“Have I ever?” You managed to quip back. Van’s smile relaxed and she shook her head with a warm laugh that you’d almost forgotten.

“No. No, you haven’t,” You were forced to say your goodbye's after that, reassuring Van you would indeed call. Addy sat politely on the bench, lollypop stick poking out of her mouth as she kicked her legs which dangled off the edge of the bench. She looked your way as she heard the door bell ring ans stood, reaching out to take your hand. the ran had stopped so you no longer needed your umbrella.

"Did you miss your friend, Auntie?" she asked you as you crossed the street. you stayed quiet for a beat, fingers still clutching the post it, now tucked away in your pocket.

"yeah, I did miss her,"

#◛⑅·˚ ༘ ♡ kay's at it again♡#yellowjackets #yellowjackets fanfic #yellowjackets x reader #vanessa palmer #vanessa palmer x reader #van palmer #van palmer x reader

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angiecatz · 6 months

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Ja, Christmas Spirit Part: 1

König x F!Reader

A/N: Christmas came early, I know I said Dec.1st But I just couldn't resist!

Summary: “You, A young author, were gifted an enchanted pen that allowed you to unknowingly bring characters into your world. And you just so happened to be writing fanfiction with that pen. So, you are thrown into a cliche Hallmark movie timeline with your biggest fictional crush, König and the only way to send him home is to find your “Christmas spirit.” But can you bear to see him go?”

WC: 5.8k

The cold was the perfect time to write. You could be bundled up, have tea, AND be productive? What was not to love! No one could nag in your ear about going outside and getting sunlight. There wasn't much sunlight to get.

It was a big upgrade from the heat of summer that made you feel sweaty and tired. Those were the times when no writing got done. You mostly just slept through all of Summer.

For those reasons, you loved winter. Along with the fact that Starbucks was selling peppermint mocha again. To hell with everyone who said it tasted like toothpaste.

Maybe part of you felt sad that you were sitting alone in your room three days from Christmas. The only thing to look forward to is also the thing you dread. Writer's block had hit like a bitch this fall.

Now, you finally had some inspiration. You didn't even have to set your phone on mute nobody ever called anyway. You just turned on your favorite playlist and sat down at your desk.

The plan was to spend the evening writing about your fictional little worlds and AU’s.

You had everything set up, your papers, laptop, and tea. You already had a loose idea of what you would be writing. You had scrolled through Pinterest, and even made a board or two for the aesthetic.

First, you would start with the planning phase of writing in your trusty journal.

You opened your desk drawer and pulled out a small decorative box. Inside, laid on a golden silk plush pillow was the fanciest pen you had ever seen in your life. Even though it's already at the very least your fourth time seeing it, it still blew your mind.

With white and gold, it looked like something Marie Antoinette would have LOVED if she had been around for it. Straight out of Versaille. It must have cost a fortune, your best friend had bought it for you as an early Christmas present.

You hadn't used it when you got it. You wanted to wait for the perfect moment and this was it. You carefully closed the box and placed it to the side. Next, you placed the tip of the pen on the paper.

The ink flowed onto the paper like a gentle stream, letter by swoopy letter you wrote out the name König.

Yes, the perfect moment for the perfect pen was a fanfiction moment. You had to keep your dedicated readers fed after all. An x-reader of course. The little people scurrying around on Tumblr and Ao3 loved x-readers. They especially loved the tall man who wore a shirt as a mask and went around shooting and breaking backs.

You’d be lying if you didn't feel like barking every time you saw him. But that was your little secret, one only the anonymous people of the internet were allowed to know.

The writing came easy, and for once you didn't want to pull your hair out. ‘It’s all in the pen,’ you thought. It must be. This was too easy. The pen glided across the paper like a knife on warm butter.

You lost track of time and quickly filled out three whole pages of ideas. When you looked up, the sun had gone down and you could see the street lights on through your bedroom window.

How time flies when you're having fun. It took a great effort on your part to place the pen back into its box and close the notebook.

Even as you crawled into the warmth of your bed and closed your eyes all you could think about was a certain 6 '10 monster of a man.

You woke up uneasy. A deep gut feeling that you got even before you opened your eyes. A prey-like feeling, It felt like someone was watching you.

You knew you should open your eyes, but it was just so much easier to keep them closed. You even reached out to pull your blanket closer to your body. Maybe if you ignored it, it would go away. Yeah, that was a wonderful idea, You fought the urge to just pull the blanket over your head and hide. It was probably nothing. You would have heard if someone broke in anyway.

But no matter how long you waited, whatever ‘it’ was didn't seem intent on leaving. You waited in vain for a few more seconds.

Then you got the most wonderful thought, ‘Hey! I am a grown-ass woman. I ain't scared of no ghosts!’ So you snapped your eyes open fully expecting to see nothing but your room.

Instead, your eyes met the weird tactical pants of someone who is very much not see-through. Your eyes climbed the form in horror.

Up, up, up, and even more up, up, up, Until you reach the cold blue eyes, the only thing you could really make out against the dark backdrop of your room.

That is very much not a ghost. In your ‘I'm a grown woman’ thought you failed to realize that grown women have grown problems. And sometimes those problems are intruders here to rob and kill you… Or worse.

You would have loved to say you let out a good blood-curdling scream, but what came out of your mouth was more akin to the high-pitched squeak of a startled rabbit.

You scrambled out of bed as fast as you could, which proved to be not very fast according to the giant weighted blanket you insisted on sleeping with.

It ended up being you having to roll out of bed and then rolling too far onto the floor with a blanket tangled up in your legs.

The man just gave an amused high-pitched chuckle. Great now not only is he going to murder YOU, but he's also going to laugh and make you feel embarrassed while doing it.

He kneeled onto your bed to peer over the other edge to look at you, who was currently stuck in something that looked vaguely like the family guy death pose.

“Are you alright?” He asked in an accented voice.

Aw, how sweet, the burglar cares if you're alright! Perhaps if this was one of your stories you would think that gesture is sweet and kind of hot, but this is real life. And that question rang disturbingly.

After a few seconds, you had finally gotten yourself together and were able to stand up. Although maybe you shouldn't have, because the quickness of your movements sent a bunch of blood from your brain to your feet and caused you to stumble a bit and feel lightheaded.

Great. You are one hundred percent ready to fight off the strange man. Top physical and mental fitness! No chance you would lose! The man before you came into view as your eyes finally focused and blinked away the sleep.

Your first thought was ‘GODDAMN!’ His stature and build were very impressive and horrifying. Your second thought was, ‘What a strange mask’. Black with eye holes cut out and bleached tear streaks. It looked vaguely familiar. Scratch that it looked really familiar.

The man tilted his head to the side like a curious puppy, “Did you hit your head?”

You thought you must have, long before you woke up this morning. Might have even been when you were a baby and the hallucinations were just setting in today. There was no way in hell this mountain of a man before you was the König.

The one from a video game. He wasn't even a main character. You are not a woman of science but you are one hundred percent sure video game characters do not randomly come to life. There's no possible explanation in the entirety of the universe that would make this make sense.

But even the accent was to a tea, and you were pretty sure sniper hoods were not a common choice for burglars.

Unless this was some weird stalker that knew of your ‘obsession’. Again, flattering in fanfiction but terrifying in real life.

“What?” You managed to stutter the words out somehow.

“Maybe you really did.”

You felt the need to defend yourself, “I did not!”

“How the hell are you? How did you get into my house?!” You quickly added on. This was strange, your eyes darted around in hopes of finding something to defend yourself with. Water bottle, walmart heater, pillows. Yup, you were thoroughly unprepared to defend yourself.

“You already know who I am.” He slowly climbed back off of your mattress and returned to his full stature.

“No.”

There was that stupid fucking head tilt again, “No?”

“You’re just some crazy dude! I'm calling the cops!” As soon as the words left your mouth you realized that maybe angering him was not the best idea. He was back on the bed in a flash, his large arm stretched and his hands grabbed hold of your outstretched arm.

“What the fu-”

It only took him one hand to yank you onto the bed and soon you were on your back with him on top of you, using his body weight and hands to keep you pinned to your own mattress.

“Do not play dumb with me little lamn, now send me back,” His voice dipped dangerously low as he hissed the words out.

You struggled against his hold. You tried to rip your hands away, and buck your hips up in hopes of throwing him off, but none of it worked. It just made him press your wrists further into the mattress.

“What the hell do you mean send you back?! I don't even know who you are!” You bit back.

“Liar! I have seen your journals, I have seen that cursed pen!”

His hold wasn't letting up. This man was truly crazy with his nonsensical accusations.

“I really don't know! Let me go!”

He actually listened to you and let one of your arms go. You thought he had maybe come to his senses and was going to let you go. But no, he reached into his own pocket and pulled out a grumbled paper. His other hand stayed firmly over your wrist.

He managed to unscramble it himself and shove it in your face. Your eyes had to adjust a moment to make sense of it.

“A writer’s heart, pure and kind, Is the secret to unlocking the mind, For 'tis true what the tales say: That the path to our worlds lies this way.

Only once we find our inner hope, And unlock the secrets of the world at our scope, Shall the world be a brighter sight, For the spirit of love and joy must ignite!

Seek within, find your true self, And unlock the spirit upon your shelf, Then him, your spirit can save,”

It was in your handwriting, with the delicate nature of the pen. This was yours. Torn from a page of your own journal. The thing was though, you had no memory of ever writing such an absurd poem. You don't write poems. They were the one thing that ruined your high school English grade.

And you certainly wouldn't write such a pretentious one that sounded like it came from a Hallmark movie. You happened to have a strong dislike of the channel.

“What the actual fuck is going on?!” You demanded, and you snatched the paper from him with your free hand. You had long since given up trying to get out from under him.

“That is what I would like to know. One moment I was on the field and next I was in a white room and now here.”

“Then go back to the field I don't care! Just get out!”

“I CAN’T!” He yelled back. He was off you like a shot, you stayed frozen on your bed as he thundered over to your bedroom door. He was finally leaving, you thought. He yanked your door open so hard he almost ripped it completely off its hinges.

The noise of it slamming into the wall made you flinch. You sat up in your bed and watched him, too scared to try and escape.

His hand reached out, albeit a little shaky and unstable. His fingers had just barely grazed the threshold before he had yanked them back and a loud ZAP rang out through the room. It sounded like he had just run straight into a human-sized bug zapper.

“I can’t leave. I've tried everything.” He muttered as he clutched his hand.

Now that he mentioned it your room was in disarray. Your window was propped open and multiple books were scattered across the floor.

Things had just gone from murderer-level scary to supernatural-level scary. A category that was very very hard to wrap your head around.

A strange man, who just so happened to be a dead ringer for your favorite video game character, a strange letter, and now an unleaveable room?

You had to see this for yourself. You got yourself up and neared your door. You kept extra care to stay as far away from ‘König’(you might as well accept it by now). You didn't want to get zapped. That shit looked like it hurt.

But if you got zapped then maybe you weren't having some weird mental breakdown and König wasn't just some dude and the actual König.

Like ripping a bandaid off.

You braced yourself and you pushed your fingers through the threshold of the door, squeezed your eyes shut, and…..

… …. …..

Nothing. No zap. No excruciating pain. Nothing. Zip. Nada.

You were perfectly fine. You even waved your hand around a bit. König bristled up at this and stuck his own hand in the door beside yours. No zap. He too also waved his hand around a bit.

Wonderful. He had tricked you. He wasn't König and that stupid poem must have just been something you wrote after a really long night. This dude was an excellent actor. Could it be this is some crazy culty acting school assignment? You really need to stop coming up with such outlandish theories.

You pulled back your hand and jumped back in case he tried to grab you again.

As soon as your hand was back in the room there was a zap and König yelled out in pain. He jumped back like a hissing cat.

“What is this?!” He demanded.

“How the hell should I know?!” You responded.

In the distance, bells rang. With a soft jingle jingle that came through the open window. You looked back at König, and behind him, you could see tiny little snowflakes starting to fall.

That was strange. You rarely ever get snow. Not once in your life had you ever gotten a white Christmas. Must be global warming…

Enough of these games you thought, “Get out of my house.”

“Did you not just see? Don't you think I've tried?!” He gestured widely to your bedroom door.

“I walked out the door just fine!” To prove your point you backstepped till you were past the threshold of your room and in your hallway.

There was no zapping, not that you expected it this time. You were perfectly fine. You walked out the door just fine. So maybe trying to negotiate with some intruder you should make a run for it. So that's just what you do.

If he isn't faking the zaps then he can't run after you, and if he is? Well, you just hope your sudden sprint caught him by surprise and gave you enough time to reach your front door.

You had neighbors, nosey ones at that. If you ran out all crazy they would surely call the cops. Wouldn't be the first time they called the cops on you, this time it would be for a good reason.

You got all the way past the bathroom when you heard thundering footsteps behind you.

Shit.Shit.Shit!

Hearing someone much bigger than yourself run after you is another type of fear. You could hear him getting closer and closer with each step. He was much quicker than you, that much was obvious.

You had just barely graced the edge of the hallway when a strong, large, pair of arms wrapped around your midsection.

You shrieked as anyone would, You tried to thrash around in his arms but the tight hold he had on you only allowed you to wiggle a bit without feeling like a too-tightly gripped stress ball. If he used even a miniscule amount more of his strength you were sure you'd pop.

Your lack of ability to struggle allowed him to maneuver you like a rag doll. He flipped you around so his hands held you firmly right below the armpits. Your legs dangle uselessly.

He was shaking, and so were you. You were worried he’d start shaking you and demanding answers you don't even know the question to. That couldn't be good for your brain.

“How and why am I here?” König yelled the question he had already asked multiple times.

“Why would I know?! I just woke up to you standing over me!”

“What was that room then? And the letter?!” The angrier he got the more jumbled his pronunciation got, and his accent was slowly becoming more and more noticeable.

“I DON'T KNOW!” Your voice cracked and your tears threatened to spill.

König finally seemed to take your answer seriously, “You really don't know?”

“I’m just as confused as you are.”Now please put me down you thought.

He understood your silent plea and placed you back on your feet. He nodded and turned his head to the kitchen you both were just mere inches from. Here, he had a direct line to the back patio door.

He stepped into the kitchen with no problem. With a sense of confidence, he quickly stepped to the door, he had finally found an exit. He had gotten past your bedroom, only a few steps more and he’d be free.

As soon as his fist closed on the doorknob, an electrical current was burned through him, from the very tips of his fingers to the ends of his hair. His mouth just dropped open in a completely silent scream.

When he finally was able to pull his hand away from the old-fashioned door knob, he stumbled right onto the floor, twitching and convulsing.

You gasped and ran to his side. He might be some weird Call of Duty-dressed burglar but he was still a person. And if he died in your house aren’t you legally responsible?

Your mind ran through your limited knowledge of first aid. Why couldn't you have taken some classes sooner? Your research for fanfic wasn't nearly enough.

You placed your hands lightly on his back as he shook. You had to do something. You had to figure something out. You were running out of time. He would die. He would die right here on your kitchen floor and the police would come take you away.

Breaking Bad

YES! Yes yes yes that's right! You could remember it so clearly. One of the characters started convulsing so they turned them on their side. That's got to be right. T.V. occasionally gets medical advice right.

Isn't that only so they don't choke on their vomit? This dude doesn't look like he's about to throw up… Still, it's the best idea you've got.

So that's what you do. Inspired by Breaking Bad, you rolled the mammoth of a man onto his side. It took some effort, he’s completely dead weight and you haven't hit the gym in a while.

Eventually, you got it right. You have him propped up with some throw pillows from your couch in what you thought was the proper position.

Next, He needed help. Real help, not help from some random twenty-something woman who writes fanfiction in her free time. Help from a professional.

He balanced and did not immediately plop over when you took your hands off of him, That must be a good sign, right?

Nonetheless, it allowed you to race back to your room, grab your phone, and race back in record time. You kneeled down next to König again and typed in shaky numbers. You missed typing a couple of times and had to restart. Three numbers should be this hard, get it together!

9 1 1

The phone rang and rang. It rang for too long. Aren’t 911 operators supposed to pick up immediately? That's their whole point is it not? To answer in emergencies? He could die at any moment and nobody could be bothered to pick up the phone.

You must just be tripping yourself out, you reasoned. You're too freaked out and so the seconds feel much longer than they actually are. That has to be the reason.

You focused on Königs breathing instead of the ringing in your ear.

The line goes down with a long beep. No answer.

Shit.

So much for emergency services.

Well, that's just great. Now he's really going to die. You must be going crazy at this point. You look at your kitchen window from your spot on the floor. You could see it, the snow piled upon the window sill. Perfect and untouched. Such a strange thing. It had only just started snowing a moment ago.

Slowly bell chimes started to ring outside your house. It sounded like there were Christmas Carolers right outside the door. Maybe they could help?

You felt dizzy. Way too dizzy to be normal. Your phone slipped from your hand and onto your wood flooring. The edge of your vision went blurry.

When you woke again it was to the smell of cinnamon and gingerbread. You hadn't made gingerbread in a long long time.

You were warm and pleasant. Wrapped up in a knit blanket near a fire in your fireplace and some roasted chestnuts.

Strange. You could have sworn you had passed out on the kitchen floor with some dude.

Oh well, that problem could wait for tomorrow. You were way too warm and comfy to even think about getting up. There was some moving next to you, and the couch dipped and creaked.

That made you open your eyes. Right next to you, passed out on your couch is König(you couldn't think of anything else to call him), a blanket wrapped around him.

“What the Fuck….” You whispered.

You could hear Christmas music playing in the background, from your T.V. You don't listen to Christmas music. With much wiggling, you were able to free yourself from the confines of the blanket.

König managed to sleep through it. You were on your feet, thankfully in the same clothes you remember being in. The real problem started when you looked down at your coffee table. There was a platter of Gingerbread on a festive platter right in the middle of it.

You don't own festive decor or gingerbread. Did König do this? How could he have done this when just moments ago he was having a seizure on the ground?

Your question was answered by a blinding white light like a nuclear bomb had just gone off in the middle of your living room.

You shielded your eyes with the crook of your arm. A feminine disembodied voice spoke, “A writer’s heart, pure and kind, Is the secret to unlocking the mind, For 'tis true what the tales say: That the path to our worlds lies this way.

Only once we find our inner hope, And unlock the secrets of the world at our scope, Shall the world be a brighter sight, For the spirit of love and joy must ignite!

Seek within, find your true self, And unlock the spirit upon your shelf, Then him, your spirit can save”

The poem from earlier. The voice was not one you remembered so you asked, “God?” You weren't really expecting an answer but she did.

“No. I am the Christmas spirit.”

No Christmas spirit.The Christmas spirit. You almost laughed. You would have thought it was just some weird prank. But the blinding light was too true.

“You have things to do,” The Christmas spirit said.

“Things?” You asked.

“König must go home, he's not from here,” The spirit continued.

“You can't possibly mean….” You trailed off. There was no possible way König was the König from the video game. You had already gone over this. But a lot of things have started to seem possible lately.

“Only you can send him home, just follow my poem.”

How perfectly vague. Wonderful answer that wasn't even an answer.

“Oh wow, I'm the chosen one and the only one who can save him how original.” You said sarcastically.

“Only you can send him home, just follow my poem.” The voice repeated.

The light filtered out and the dimly light yellow lighting of your living room trickled in in its place. The voice and godly light were gone.

“I wasn't lying,” A male voice said behind you.

You looked over your shoulder. König was awake. Sat on your couch leaned over with his elbows balanced on his knees. He looked up at you with haunted blue eyes. That whole experience proved the limited story he had provided you with.

“The Christmas spirit,” you said.

“Ja, The Christmas spirit,” He agreed.

How absurd. People love to say things like “This only ever happens in movies” but this kind of shit really ONLY happens in movies.

“I would like to go home.”

“I would like you to go home.”

Wonderful then, You were both on the same page. You repeated the poem in your head. You ran over it till you found the first line that could be a clue.

“Only once we find our inner hope, And unlock the secrets of the world at our scope,” You mumbled.

“Hope?” König asked, “Hope for what.”

“Maybe we need to find our Christmas spirit? That's always what the characters in the movies have to do.” You looked around your living room, it wasn't decorated for the holidays at all. You never hosted so there really wasn't a point. The strange cookies and Christmas music was the only thing festive and they were not even yours.

So was that it? You just needed to decorate your house for Christmas? That was going to prove difficult by the fact that the back patio door was a death trap. You had an inkling feeling that the front door would be the same.

“I don't celebrate Christmas….”

“Neither do I,” You responded.

König shifted uncomfortably. Emphasis on uncomfortably, König was very very uncomfortable right now. Turns out it is kind of awkward to be sitting on the couch of some girl he had almost killed a few moments ago.

There was no way out either. Oh, what König would have given to be able to just run out and straight back onto the battlefield.

You, on the other hand, were not that uncomfortable. Just mildly annoyed and amazed that a real-life video game character that you had just been writing fanfiction about last night was sitting on your couch.

“Oh!” You said.

König jostled just slightly at your sudden exclamation.

“We can just look it up!” You don't know why you hadn't thought about it earlier. You had a perfectly working phone. If you ignored the 911 incident.

The results came up in seconds. You clicked on the first link.

How to find your Christmas spirit: 1. Focus on the present: Try not to get caught up in the past or worry about the future. Instead, focus on the present moment and find joy in the simple things around you. 2. Practice appreciation: Find things to be grateful for each day, whether it's a favorite meal, a beautiful sunset, or the time you have with loved ones. Gratitude can help shift your focus away from negative thoughts and feelings. 3. Spread kindness: Do something nice for someone else, whether it's baking some cookies, volunteering at a local charity, or simply offering a kind word. Helping others can bring a sense of joy and fulfillment. 4, Nurture your spiritual side: If you have a spiritual practice, consider incorporating it into your holiday festivities. This can help you find a deeper sense of connection and meaning during the season. 5, Take a break from the hustle and bustle: Sometimes, the busiest and most hectic times around the holiday season can make it hard to find your Christmas spirit. 6. Try to take some time for yourself, whether it's a quiet walk in nature or a hot bath, to reconnect with yourself and your inner peace. 7. Remember that finding your Christmas spirit is a process, and it might take some experimentation and trial and error to find what works best for you. The important thing is to be intentional about your efforts and to allow yourself to enjoy the holidays, even in the midst of their challenges.

Blah. Blah. Blah. A lot of worthless advice. You were honestly expecting to get something like “Bake cookies” and “Decorate your house.” Not a whole bunch of hypothetical feelings and emotions.

“Ok. So we're in the present.”

König nodded. You continued, “We need to not focus on the past then.”

You sat down on your couch, right next to König. You missed how he stiffened up and straightened his back. You gave him your name. Step one is taken.

“....König,” He responded.

“You're in the military, no?” You knew the answer. You had spent a lot of time writing fanfiction about him.

“Mercenary.” Yeah, one-word answers. He didn't seem to be all that interested in talking to you.

“We have to talk if we’re gonna find out Christmas Spirit or Whatever.”

“I still think we should just decorate.” He looked around your living room for areas to start with.

“Well I don't have any decorations, and I can't exactly go outside.” You huffed as you flopped back against the backing of the couch.

At your words, Koning jumped up onto his feet with an idea, “What if you can?”

“What? Yeah no I don't feel like getting shocked.”

“I couldn't leave the bedroom until after you did. Maybe it will be the same.”

Maybe it would. But that was a gamble. Either you can walk through the front door or you die of some strange electrical Christmas shock. But the thing is you don't gamble. You're pretty sure you can find your “Christmas spirit” inside your own house and stay very much alive.

“We don't know if it will be the same,” You sighed.

“We have to try!”

Wow. He seemed to really want out of this house. You frowned when he said ‘we’ he wasn't the one having to walk through an electrical field just to see the sun.

When you didn't respond König continued, “You have to have hope.”

His words were erratic as he made his way to your front door. You watched him but didn't bother getting up to follow him. You watched his wide shoulders hunch as he leaned down to look through your peephole.

“I can see your driveway that is good, Ja?”

“What else would you see?”

He ignored you. He stepped away from the door and stood there. Maybe he was counting the grain of wood, you thought. He stared for a long second. And then another. And another. König finally turned back to you with a confused dear, like he actually expected you to open it.

“I’m not touching that thing.”

König closed his eyes for a good, long moment, “You are right. I can't expect you to put yourself in danger. I should be the one doing the protecting.”

He turned back around and raised his hand for the doorknob. You shot up from your spot on the couch and shouted, “STOP!”

He froze and looked over his shoulder back at you, sniper mask wrinkling in weird places and catching to the shape of his nose.

“Don't do that. We know what happens.” You weren't about to have him convulsing on your floor again. That would be such a hassle, no other reason.

“You're probably right. I'll open it.” You said as you attempted to make your way to the door. You were stopped by Königs arm that flew out to act as a barrier between you and the door.

“I can not allow you to do that. You could get hurt.”

“What the hell?! A moment ago you were basically begging me to do it.”

“I’ve changed my mind.” He lowered his arm, only to place his hand on your shoulder and push you back.

OH hell no! Now you have to do it. For nothing more than spite. Spite was a great motivator. You ducked under his arm and made a reach for the door knob. König was a trained killer. He had the agility and the strength to catch you before your hand even got close to the doorknob. He swapped you up into his arms and held you tightly against his chest.

Like this you could feel his heartbeat against his chest, you could feel every muscle in his contract and twitch as you squirmed in his hold.

“We will find another way. You will not put yourself in danger.”

You stopped squirming in his grasp. You knew you couldn't get out of the grip he had made that glaringly obvious this morning. You could admit defeat.

König placed you back on the ground, and you stared at your shoes all sad and mopey-like.

“Do not be sad. Girls like you shouldn't ever be sad. We will find another way.”

You nodded and pointedly ignored the ‘girls like you part.’ He seemed to take your response as the truth and your agreement and moved away from the door. That's when you made your second dive and succeeded.

“Scheiße!”

Your finger wrapped around the door knob and your eyes squeezed shut as you thrust your body against it. It flew open with your weight and sent you flying right into the snow. It was all silent as the snow started to work its way through your pajamas.

The snow crunched behind you as König stepped out of the house.

“That was very stupid.” He kneeled down next to you.

You gave him a half-hearted thumbs up, “It worked though.”

“That it did.”

You could hear the birds and some cars as they zipped by. It seemed the rest of the world was normal and you were the only one who had a video game character randomly show up in their bedroom. Lucky you.

Taglist: @bubbleseven @homicidalsquirrels

#konig x reader #cod x reader #cod x y/n #cod x you #konig x you #konig x y/n #konig mw2 #könig x reader #könig x you

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isa-ghost · 2 months

Note

Why do I feel like CC!Phil is reading your fic and is taking notes.

Dude so many people have joked about this now both in his chat, in my friend servers and on here LMAO.

There's no way he is imo. Cause like. Yeah he has a Tumblr, but he and Kristin (usually Kristin) only look at the fanart. And I think they only use the fanart tag, which my fic isn't in.

And that's like, as of 3 years ago at this point. Nowadays who knows if they look at Tumblr at all. Given the recent Tumblr vs Tubbo drama and Phil being made aware of it at one point, I don't think he's looking here at all present day.

He also had no idea the fic existed before the last stream when I lovingly yelled at him on TTS about a) plotting chapters 7-12 in greater detail and obsessing over it and b) jokingly telling him to stop coincidentally following chapter 1 to the letter. That and generally speaking, he semi-purposely doesn't look into things he's told about on TTS. Case in point: song recommendations.

But it's still WILD that last stream was so close to chapter 1. Like. Here's the things I completely by chance predicted:

The massive loot trip while the kids slept for a long time

Rationalizing unnecessary loot he was grabbing

Eventually saying fuck it and demolishing entire chests and taking ALL loot instead of just what he wanted

Tallulah grilling him about it all and him playing it off as nbd

The Ender King themed backpack (though Phil made it in the fic, it wasn't a gift)

LIKE. I WAS SCREAMING ALL STREAM LONG. And at least 10 chatters asked me to whisper them the link to AMFMN since I kept having a stroke about it in chat.

But realistically, Phil nor Kristin are in the places where AMFMN is being posted (here and ao3). And to our knowledge, they haven't read fanfics from the community in years.

Though, I am acutely aware of how there are at least 2 iconic crows I can think of that are VIP in his chat and/or well-known in the community for their fanworks, one of which is a fic writer. So like. The chances he'll read/has read AMFMN are extremely low but not zero.

Which terrifies me. Especially given the fact that AMFMN has an animatic from @offscot now that's gonna be posted when I post Chapter 2 later today (I'm finishing it atm). Because THAT animatic is something he could totally see, especially if by some insane stroke of luck, it was featured on a QSMP Movie Night. We DO know he loves looking at animatics. If my friend has QSMP/Philza in the title of the animatic, it'll probably pop up when he searches for it.

#qsmp #qsmp philza #AMFMN things

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advanced-knocking · 7 days

Text

ART APPRECIATION ASKS

1. What medium of creativity do you like best?

2. What art would you want on a sticker/shirt/other physical object of your choice? (link to it or make a tag for it)

3. Go to [fandom] tag and reblog some art you like that has under 100 notes

4. Go to the art tag (or similar) and reblog some art you like that has under 100 notes

5. What genre do you like reading the best?

6. What genre would you probably never read?

7. What's the last fic you finished reading?

8. What's a good fanfic in the [fandom] tag on Ao3 that needs more love?

9. What's a good original work on Ao3 that needs more love?

10. Look at the newest fics in the [fandom] tag on Ao3 and comment on one (or more) that you liked.

11. Look at the newest original works on Ao3 and comment on one (or more) that you liked.

12. Do you like it when authors answer your comments on Ao3? If yes, what kind of answer do you like the most? If no, why not?

13. What are your go-to Ao3 filters?

14. Best fanfic tropes ever?

15. Worst fanfic tropes ever?

16. What makes you immediatly close a fic that otherwise seemed good?

17. Which artist/writer do you wish would get into the thing you like?

18. What media do you want to get into because of artists/writers you like?

19. If you had all the money in the world, which artist/writer would you comission? (Provide a way to find them if possible)

20. You are hosting an art exhibition for your mutuals and followers. Make a tag for it and tag a few pieces (drawings, poetry, photos, whatever else) with it, tag this ask as well so your mutuals and followers can go and enjoy the exhibition! Bonus points if you choose some kind of theme

21. You are given a bookshelf in a library that your mutuals and followers attend. What pieces of written media are you putting on that shelf?

22. You now own Netflix/other big budget streaming network. What shows/movies are you buying? Are there any pieces of media you would adapt into a show/movie?

23. What would you make a 5 hour video essay on, if you had enough time and motivation?

24. What drawing would you get as a tattoo?

25. Which poems do you want to be able to recite from memory? (If you already can recite some, name them too)

26. Which medium of creativity speaks to you the most? What has the easiest time clicking with you?

27. If someone wanted to make you a creative gift, what's the thing that would make you the happiest?

28. Have you ever considered reading/watching/listening to [thing]?

29. What are some assumptions you have about [thing] based on tumblr?

30. Share a quote (from whatever media you want) that has changed you as a person

31. What song lyric could totally be used as a fic title but hasn't yet?

32. Go through a bit of my (the asker's) blog, then recommend something to me.

33. Go through a bit of my (the asker's) blog, then assign me a painting.

34. Read a fic from a fandom you're not in. Make assumptions about the thing based on that one fic.

35. If you had a perfectly organised online archive, what would it be an archive of?

#ask game #ask games #ask #art #fic #tumblr #ao3 #fandom #fanfiction #fanart #me trying to get people to reblog art stuff yet again

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cloutchase · 11 months

Note

What are the sites’ favorite hobbies?

TUMBLR USED TO MAKE A LOT OF ART AND WRITE LITTLE STORIES. NOW I AM UNSURE, AS HE HAS BECOME A LOT MORE SECRETIVE. HE DOES HOLD AN INTEREST IN VINTAGE WARES.

TWITTER LIKES TO TALK MORE THAN DO. HE PRIDES HIMSELF ON HIS FILM OPINIONS.

AMINO DOES A LOT OF LITTLE CRAFTS ALONG WITH WRITING AND DRAWING. HOWEVER THEY ARE ALSO ASLEEP MOST DAYS.

DISCORD SPENDS A LOT OF TIME PLAYING VIDEO GAMES. THE FELLOW IS ALSO INTERESTED IN ARCHITECTURE.

TIKTOK IS ALWAYS OUT AND ABOUT. SHE ENJOYS DANCING AND HOVERBOARDING.

INSTAGRAM IS A PHOTOGRAPHER. SHE IS OFTEN TOO PREOCCUPIED TO TAKE MANY PICTURES.

TWITCH IS ALWAYS STREAMING. MOST OF THESE INVOLVE VIDEO GAMES. SHE DABBLES IN ROBOTICS AS WELL.

YOUTUBE CAN BE SEEN DOING MANY THINGS, AS HE IS A MULTI-TALENTED INDIVIDUAL. VIDEO GAMES, MOVIES, HOVERBOARDING, AND MAKING VIDEOS ARE JUST SOME OF HIS HOBBIES.

AO3 SPENDS A LOT OF TIME READING. HE LIKES TO READ TO OTHERS AT THE LIBRARY AND DISCUSS FICTION.

WIKIPEDIA IS QUITE GOOD AT CHESS. USUALLY HE IS TOO BUSY WORKING.

:-)

#TUMBLR CLOUTCHASE #TWITTER CLOUTCHASE #AMINO CLOUTCHASE #DISCORD CLOUTCHASE #TIKTOK CLOUTCHASE #INSTAGRAM CLOUTCHASE #TWITCH CLOUTCHASE #YOUTUBE CLOUTCHASE #AO3 CLOUTCHASE #WIKIPEDIA CLOUTCHASE #Q&A #ASK THE WEBSITES #CC #TEXTLOG

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cleolinda · 10 months

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Weekend links

My posts

Bad pain week. We do what we can. That's mostly posts about the strikes right now.

The strikes

Oh boy.

To keep this section manageable, I highly recommend looking (in terms of my own tags) at #wga strike (writers) and/or #sag aftra strike (actors), or #strikes if you would like to see everything in one place. (A variety of tags are being used sitewide.) There's also a UPS strike coming up.

The week started off with "The endgame is to allow things to drag on until [WGA] union members start losing their apartments and losing their houses." The week ended with Ron Perlman hearing about it.

Scabby the Rat reporting live from SPN News Network

Major points from the SAG-AFTRA press conference re: how shitty the studio/streaming side is

The effects we may see (awards shows, indie movies, reality TV, media unions outside the US continuing to work because they may be legally unable to join the strike)

The Oppenheimer cast timed it so they would be seen walking off the London premiere after the strike was called. Bear in mind that "the big actors who don't need more money" are needed to draw attention to the plight of the other 98% of the guild who need health insurance, the rights to their own likenesses, and fair wages

What I said: Always remember that the people hoarding the money can make the strike stop at any time. Get mad at the right people. And I'll reemphasize that here: You don't have to just sadly and patiently wait for your shows to come back. You can get mad. You can start asking why the FUCK Disney or Netflix or whoever is so CHEAP that they'd rather postpone or cancel their billion-dollar shit than PAY WORKERS.

Reblogs of interest

It's Disability Pride Month, and I need to reblog more about that. But I haven't been posting as much of anything this month as I did last month because: disability flare-up. Whee.

Evernote, don't you even think about shutting down

Never over what Sleepy Hollow did to Nicole Beharie

Video

I'm not really versed on what happened with the AO3 DDOS attack, but this poster and their grandmother were: "She took matters into her own hands. SHE FOUND AO3"

The BBC Bad News Banger

Thrashy-thrashy-thrash

The sacred texts

A tumblr glossary: blorbo, glup shitto, eeby deeby, plinko horse, scrimblo bimblo

The classic that started a SFF subgenre: Humans are space orcs

The Mushroom Post by way of Avatar: The Last Airbender

SATAN IS NOT A FUCKING POGO STICK

Personal tags of the week

Wet Beast Wednesday was particularly good this week

Kenergy

#weekend links #odds and ends #linkspam

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disneyfan103 · 4 months

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First chapter of my Frozen II rewrite. I’ll leave links to AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/52396078/chapters/132547186

And Fanfiction: https://m.fanfiction.net/s/14309034/1/A-Retelling-of-Frozen-II

I’ll post the story here too for anyone wanting to read on Tumblr:

Prologue:

As the snow-covered forest enveloped her, a young girl sprinted desperately with tears streaming down her face. Her voice echoed through the trees as she called out for her mother, seeking refuge from the unknown dangers that lurked around her. Adorned in a cloak bearing Arendelle's noble coat of arms, she pressed on.

Suddenly, her frantic footsteps came to a halt as distant shouts reached her ears. Fear gripped her heart, and she quickly sought cover behind a towering tree. Peering through the branches, her eyes widened with trepidation as she caught sight of fluttering Arendelle flags in the distance.

Amidst the wintry landscape, soldiers raced past her, their hands gripping swords and crossbows tightly. Among them, she spotted a pair locked in a tender embrace. "My love, it's becoming too perilous. Please, return to the safety of our camp." he implored, concern etched on his face.

With determination shining in her eyes, the woman responded, her voice filled with unwavering resolve. "Oh, come now, Mattias. What soldier doesn't fight for the home she loves?" Her words carried a fierce determination as she defied the dangers that lay ahead, sprinting off into the unknown.

In a panic, the girl's desperate whispers of "mother" filled the air as she turned to retreat. But her movement halted abruptly as her wide eyes locked onto a towering figure draped in a cloak of animal hides, adorned in furs from head to toe. With a finger pressed to his lips, he urged her to silence, his presence both mysterious and intriguing.

Together, they turned their attention towards the rustling sound in the trees, their hearts pounding in anticipation. And there, emerging from the shadows, came an army of Arendellian soldiers, marching steadily towards them. The girl's gaze flickered back to the man, only to find him vanished into thin air, leaving her bewildered and alone.

Suddenly, a firm grip seized her arm, yanking her back to reality. "What are you doing out here? You must return to camp!" Urgency laced the Arendellian soldier's words as he narrowly dodged an arrow that embedded itself into a nearby tree. Without hesitation, he disappeared into the chaos of the battle, swallowed by the fog and smoke.

The girl found herself once again alone, her heart racing as she sprinted and slid down a small hill. As she caught her breath, she glanced up and caught a glimpse of something soaring through the trees. Before she could get a clear look, the sound of voices reached her ears, causing her to instinctively seek cover.

"Stay low, my son," a commanding voice urged.

"Yes, father," came the obedient reply.

"Your majesty—" began the soldier, but his words were abruptly interrupted by the sudden appearance of a massive elk leaping out of the bushes. The majestic creature narrowly missed them as it bounded up a towering rock, its form transforming into that of a man adorned in an elk's skin.

"There you are." His eyes were fixed on the mysterious figure in the elk skin. With a sense of urgency, he turned to the solider at his side, and commanded, "Mattias, get the boy out of here."

"But, Your Majesty, my orders are to never leave your side." the soldier protested, his loyalty evident.

"I want my son to be safe." the king declared resolutely before dashing off.

"No!" cried the prince, his anguish echoing through the air.

"Come, Prince Agnarr, please." the soldier pleaded, swiftly scooping up the young prince. Without looking back, they fled in the opposite direction, the prince's anguished cries lingering in the air.

As the girl's eyes widened in disbelief, she witnessed the king charging forward, his sword held high, ready to strike at the mysterious figure. The clash of their blades filled the air as they traded blows, their movements swift and precise. Each strike reverberated with the intensity of their conflict.

But then, in a stunning turn of events, the king and the figure were sent hurtling off the very edge of the cliff. It was as if fate had intervened, guiding their battle towards this precipice of danger. The girl's heart raced as she watched them disappear into the abyss below.

Suddenly, an incredible surge of power erupted from the depths of the forest. It was a force so immense that it seemed to shake the very ground beneath her feet. Like an unstoppable avalanche, everything and everyone around her was pushed back by this overwhelming energy. Trees swayed, rocks tumbled, and the air crackled with an electrifying intensity.

Amidst the chaos, the girl's eyes caught sight of a boy, desperately clinging to a ledge. Time seemed to slow down as panic gripped her heart. Without a second thought, she sprinted towards him, her feet pounding against the earth. With every ounce of strength she possessed, she reached out and grasped his hands just in the nick of time.

Their eyes met, a mixture of relief and gratitude reflected in their gazes. "Thank you," the boy uttered, his voice filled with sincerity. But as the girl looked back at him, her expression shifted, panic etched across her features as she realised who she had saved.

As the ground trembled beneath their feet, the world around them seemed to crumble. The very earth beneath the king and the mysterious figure gave way, swallowing them into its depths. A blinding burst of light pierced through the darkness, illuminating the chaos that ensued.

A fierce wind roared to life, swirling around them with the force of a tornado. The boy and the girl found themselves at the mercy of this tempest, their bodies being pulled towards the tumultuous vortex. Fear gripped their hearts as they fought against the powerful currents.

But just as all hope seemed lost, a strong hand reached out and grabbed them. "Mattias!" the boy exclaimed, relief evident in his voice. The trio held on tightly to one another as Mattias, with unwavering determination, maneuvered through the collapsing trees and crumbling ground. "Don't let go!" he urged them, his voice filled with resolve.

With every step, Mattias skillfully navigated the treacherous terrain, ensuring their safety. Finally, they reached the safety of the camp, where a moving wagon awaited them. Mattias gently placed the boy and the girl inside, assuring them that everything would be alright.

But the girl's anguish could not be contained. "No, mother!" she cried out, her voice filled with sorrow. Mattias turned back, concern etched on his face, and whispered, "Your Majesty." Without hesitation, he darted back into the forest, disappearing into the darkness.

As the girl was carried further away from the forest, her sobs echoed through the air. The weight of her loss hung heavy upon her heart, her grief overwhelming.

Thirty-three years later

Queen Elsa stood in front of the grand doors of the council chamber, her heart pounding in her chest. Anxiety washed over her like a tidal wave, threatening to consume her.

Her hands trembled, the icy chill of fear coursing through her veins. Each breath came in short, shallow gasps. as if the weight of the world rested upon her shoulders. The responsibilities of being Queen, the expectations of her people, and the impending meeting with the council who still to this day didn’t trust her all felt suffocating, closing in on her like a tight embrace.

Doubts and insecurities flooded her mind, relentless waves crashing against the shores of her confidence. The doubts whispered, questioning her every decision, making her second-guess her own abilities. In those moments, she wondered if she was truly worthy of the crown she wore.

Just as Elsa was about to succumb to the rising panic, Kai, her trusted advisor, approached with genuine concern etched on his face. "Your Majesty, are you alright?" he asked, his voice filled with worry.

Elsa forced a weak smile, trying to hide her distress. "I'm fine, Kai," she replied, her voice betraying her true feelings. "I just... I need a moment."

Kai hesitated for a moment, torn between respecting her space and wanting to help. "Should I send for Princess Anna?" he asked, concern evident in his eyes. He knew that Anna was always there for Elsa, ready to offer support and comfort.

Elsa shook her head, frustration and exhaustion evident in her eyes. "No, Kai. She deserves to enjoy the festivities outside, it's all she's been talking about for the past week. I can handle this.”

Deep down, Elsa longed for Anna's comforting presence, but she didn't want to rely on her sister for every moment of weakness. Her sister had a life outside of Elsa and she had to respect that.

Taking a deep breath, Elsa closed her eyes and focused on grounding herself. She thought of Anna and what she might say. "You've got this, Elsa." she whispered to herself, channeling her sister's unwavering support. Slowly, the panic began to subside, replaced by a resolute determination. Elsa straightened her posture and pushed open the council chamber doors.

_ _ _

Anna and Olaf sat on a checkered blanket, surrounded by the picturesque beauty of the meadow. Anna flipped through the pages of the advanced book, her brow furrowed in confusion more and more as she flipped through the pages. She glanced at Olaf, who was trying his best to understand the complex concepts.

"Olaf, this book is ridiculously difficult!" Anna exclaimed, frustration evident in her voice. "I can barely make sense of it myself. Why did Elsa have to pick this one for you?"

Olaf tilted his head, a puzzled expression on his face. "Well, Elsa said it would be good for our intellectual growth, but I think she overestimated us.“ he said innocently.

“Our? Pfft, that stinker, she did this on purpose.” Anna chuckled, playfully tossing the book behind her without a care for where it landed. She ignored the audible splash. “I’ll get her back later and you’re right, Olaf. Maybe we should stick to something a little less... snow-phisticated next time," she teased, playfully nudging him with her elbow.

Anna’s eyes lit up with excitement as he remembered something. "Oh, speaking of snow, Olaf, how’s the new permafrost?”

“Oh it’s great! It’s like living the dream Anna.” he replied, rolling onto his back to bask in the warm sun. Anna followed suit, lying down beside him. “How I wish this could last forever.” she hummed in agreement.

Suddenly, Olaf sprang up, catching a falling leaf. “And yet change mocks us with her beauty.”

“Whats that?” Anna asked, curious.

“Forget it. Maturity is making me poetic.” he said, releasing the leaf. “Tell me you’re older and thus all knowing, do you ever worry about the notion of that nothing is permanent ?”

That caught Anna off guard. “Uh, well no.”

“Really?” Anna nodded, a smile gracing her face. “Oh I can’t wait till I’m ancient like you so I don’t have to worry about important things.”

Anna chuckled, “That’s not what I mean. I, I don’t worry because I have you and Elsa and Kristoff and Sven and the gates are opened and…I’m not alone anymore.” She laid back down, gazing up at the sky, “Now that, that will never change no matter what.” She turned her head to Olaf, smiling, and he returned the smile in kind.

_ _ _

As the sun began to set, casting a warm glow over the stables, Kristoff paced back and forth, rehearsing his proposal to Sven, who was playing the role of Anna. He wanted to make sure every word was perfect.

"Anna you’re the most extraordinary person I’ve ever known." Kristoff began, his voice filled with sincerity. “I love you with all I am.” Kristoff took a deep breath, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and nerves. “Will you marry me?” Sven, doing his best Anna impression, placed a hoof over his heart tor feign shock and nodded enthusiastically as he pretended to wipe away tears.

"Thanks buddy.” He chuckled as he stood back up but his smile quickly diminished. “I love Anna, I really do. It’s just, sometimes, I can't help but doubt myself. I'm not a prince or a nobleman. I don't have fancy titles or riches to offer. I'm just a simple ice harvester."

Sven gently placed a hoof on Kristoff's shoulder and gave him a ‘you’re kidding me look’. "Kristoff, don't you see? You are so much more than titles and wealth. You have a heart of gold, and your love for Anna is what truly matters. You don't need to be a prince to be worthy of her love."

Kristoff's doubts began to fade as he listened to Sven's words of encouragement. "I know buddy or else Elsa definitely wouldn’t have given me her blessing.” He gave Sven a scratch behind his ear.

Suddenly the sound of the festival bell rang through the air, signaling the start of the town's festivities, Kristoff carefully placed the ring back in his pocket. "C'mon, Sven. Let's go find Anna and Olaf. Tonight, I ask her to be mine forever."

As Kristoff stepped out into the bustling town square, Anna couldn't contain her excitement and practically tackled him with a bear hug. "Kristoff! You're just on time! I've been counting down the days until the festival!"

Kristoff laughed, wrapping his arms around Anna in a warm embrace. "I wouldn't miss it for the world, Feistypants. You know how much I love seeing you happy."

They strolled hand in hand through the festival, marveling at the colorful decorations and the lively music that filled the air. Anna couldn't help but notice Elsa's absence at the start of the festivities. "Hey, you didn’t see Elsa on your way here, did you? She's usually here early to make sure everything is perfect. I hope she's okay."

Kristoff looked around, scanning the crowd for any sign of Elsa. "Hmm, not sure where she could be. But knowing Elsa, she's probably tied up with some last-minute meeting. She'll show up soon, I'm sure."

Just as Anna voiced her concern, Olaf, got caught up in the excitement and was whisked away by a group of giggling kids. "Oh no, Olaf! He's off on another adventure," Anna exclaimed, watching as Olaf was pulled away, his laughter echoing through the crowd.

Kristoff shrugged, “Was only a matter of time.”

“C’mon let’s go get him. She pulled Kristoff’s arm, “Elsa will kill me if he gets destroyed again.”

"Nah, she won't kill you. Maybe just ban you from chocolate for a month," he smirked, crossing his arms and refusing to budge, despite Anna's efforts to pull him.

“Which is basically death! Now c’mon!” Anna insisted.

He let himself be dragged by Anna, laughing away.

_ _ _

“Another thing Your Majesty, when do you plan to marry and produce a heir? You’ve been reining for three years now and we are no step closer to Arendelle strengthening connections and we are in desperate need of supplies for the Winter.”

“As it stands Lord Falsen, Princess Anna is my heir and shall be for the foreseeable future with the throne being passed to her own children. Yes, the Blight was unforeseen but we have rationed enough to see us through Winter.”

“Barely enough.” He mumbled. Elsa chose to ignore it.

Another councilman chimed in “That’s another thing Your Majesty, why do you continue to let the Princess court that peasant? He has absolutely nothing to offer to the thro-“

“His name is Kristoff Bjorgman, and I will not tolerate such disrespect towards him.” Elsa interrupted sharply.“ Need I remind you that Mr. Bjorgman is responsible for saving Arendelle from an eternal winter three years ago, his love for Princess Anna is genuine and true and I believe that is greater than any Prince Consort could bring to the throne.” The council fell silent, and Elsa considered it a small victory.

“Now Gentlemen, is there much more to discuss?” She said cooly.

Another councilman spoke up, "Yes Your Majesty, there are still those among the citizens who harbor doubts and fears of your rule. They believe that the recent Blight was caused by your powers."

Elsa's hands trembled as she struggled to maintain her composure. Doubts once again flooded her mind.

"I... I understand their concerns,” Elsa stammered, her voice quivering. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. “But…" her voice trailed off, truly at a loss of what to say.

The council members exchanged glances, their lack of confidence in Elsa becoming increasingly evident. The room fell into a heavy silence, further fueling Elsa's anxiety.

Councilman Falsen, known for his sharp tongue, seized the opportunity to make a cutting remark. "Arendelle has suffered greatly under your rule. First an eternal Winter, then a Blight which both severely damaged our supplies, it’s shocking we didn’t have more casualties. Who knows what you'll put Arendelle through next? Maybe it's time for someone more capable to take charge."

Elsa's heart sank as his words hit home. The doubts she had been suppressing surged to the surface, fueled by the councilman's harsh criticism. Her hands trembled, and she could feel the familiar tightening in her chest. Panic once again threatened to consume her.

Unable to bear the weight of their words, Elsa abruptly stood up, her voice trembling with a mix of anger and vulnerability. "This meeting is over. You’re all dismissed.” Her words hung in the air as she hastily left the meeting room, the sound of her hurried footsteps echoing in the silence.

In the solitude of her chambers, Elsa fought back tears, her mind swirling with self-doubt. The council's words had struck a nerve, reinforcing her deepest fears of inadequacy. As she stood there, the frost began to form on her trembling hands, a visible manifestation of her inner turmoil. In a moment of desperation, she dug her nails into her palms, puncturing her skin and causing crescent moon shaped cuts to form. The pain was a harsh reminder of the consequences of her powers, but it also served as a temporary distraction from the emotional pain she was feeling.

Elsa glanced at her hands, worried that Anna would see the marks, evidence of her struggle, of how she still wasn’t coping. She wished she could shield her sister from the darkness that sometimes consumed her, but she knew that she couldn't always control it. Taking deep breaths, she tried to calm herself, to regain control of her emotions before facing Anna.

“Don’t screw this up, this is an important day for her.”

With a practiced smile on her face, Elsa made her way out of the room, her hands still tingling from the cold.

_ _ _

"Oh, you're not getting away with that, Kristoff!" Anna giggled, playfully retaliating with a mischievous grin as he nudged her arm. The crowd cheered as their competitive spirits ignited a friendly rivalry.

Amidst the excitement, Anna spotted Elsa making her way through the crowd. "Elsa's here!" she exclaimed with relief. "I was starting to worry. Let's go.”

They made their way towards Elsa, weaving through the crowd, until they finally reached her. Elsa greeted them with a small smile. "I'm sorry I'm late. I got held up with a meeting." she explained.

Anna embraced her sister, feeling grateful for her presence. "Was Falsen giving you a hard time again?”

“No, no, just some trade discussions took longer to sort out than anticipated, don’t worry.” Elsa said hastily. Anna gave Elsa a suspicious look, sensing something more. But before she could ask, Elsa swiftly changed the subject. "So, have you been enjoying yourselves?"

"Yes! Everything looks amazing. We've been having so much fun!" Olaf exclaimed, his joy infectious.

Elsa's warm smile grew as she looked down at the snowman. "I'm glad."

The five of them spent the rest of the evening enjoying the festivities, dancing, and savoring the delicious treats the festival had to offer. They created memories that would last a lifetime, cherishing the joy and love that filled their hearts.

As the festival came to a close, Anna, Elsa, Olaf, Kristoff & Sven returned to the castle for their weekly family game night.

#disney #anna #elsa #frozen #frozen 2 #fix it fic #fix it #kristoff #olaf the snowman

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little-box-of-autism · 1 year

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More Than My Body

More Than My Body (3926 words) by AlexiHollis Chapters: 1/? Fandom: Avatar (Cameron Movies) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan & Miles "Spider" Socorro, Miles "Spider" Socorro & Jake Sully, Miles "Spider" Socorro & Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite Characters: Miles "Spider" Socorro, Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan, Jake Sully, Neytiri te Tskaha Mo'at'ite, Kiri te Suli Kireysi'ite, Lo'ak te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, Neteyam te Suli Tsyeyk'itan, Omaticaya Clan - Character Additional Tags: Spirits, Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family, Eywa being Eywa, Miles "Spider" Socorro Needs a Hug, Miles "Spider" Socorro-centric, Tsu'tey te Rongloa Ateyitan Lives Summary: created in collaboration with @little-box-of-autism on Tumblr/Little_BoxofAutism on Ao3 The spirit songs say that Eywa crafts spirits from words. When you sing to yourself on a walk alone in the forest, or whisper stories down by the stream, or have a soft conversation with another, she takes bits and pieces of memory and emotion to carve out a new soul, waiting for a vessel to house her creation. Together, lovers whisper words of bravery and strength, their favorite characteristics of one another and their family members, in the hopes that Eywa will take those words to craft their child. Or In another life, Spider was born to Tsu'tey and Sylwanin. This is the solution Eywa took when Sylwanin died, but Tsu'tey survived.

I am super happy to be able to collaborate with @alexihollis on this fic, I would say more (I want to say more) but honestly, I'm at a loss for words to describe just how great it's been to work with them.

#More Than My Body #atwow fanfiction #avatar fanfiction #miles spider socorro #tsu'tey te rongloa ateyitan #tsu'tey lives #atwow fic rec

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staticl0ve · 2 years

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Dollhouse - Chap 3 - Connor x Fem!Reader

Pairings: Connor/Female Reader Rating: Explicit/NSFW 18+ Story (AO3): [ Read on AO3 ] Chapters 5/5 (Tumblr): [ Chap 1 ] [ Chap 2 ] [ Chap 3 * ] [ Chap 4 * ] [ Chap 5 ] Words: 3.8k Warnings: Smut, Oral (f!receiving and m!receiving), Summary: Elijah’s in need of a house sitter and what better than asking his step sibling to water the plants and run a few tests. After all, how hard could pressing a few buttons on a tablet be? Alternative AU.

Chapter 3 - Show Me *

“Come…on,” you fumed at your phone.

You asked for space to process and Connor respectfully remained idle in the living room while you paced around the house fiddling with a mobile device. He didn’t seem bothered by your request, his head turning marginally to follow your pacing form while your bare feet pounded restlessly on hardwood.

He explained that a tree had fallen in last night’s storm, causing the cell comms to be knocked down. You had so many choice words for your stepbrother that you were too distracted by the lack of signal to focus on being in an isolated mansion with no easy way back to civilization.

“This is ridiculous,” you muttered under your breath. “Why would Elijah think this was a good idea?”

In the corner of your eye, you caught a red glow on Connor’s head, which you assumed was a bad sign. Your worries were confirmed when you spun around the living room, phone in hand to meet the gaze of an android with his brows knitted together. It was worse than kicking a puppy, your frustrations melting as his shoulders slumped.

“I’m sorry,” you sighed. “This is out of your control…and I’m…being unfair.”

You stepped into his space with your arm out, seeking his for a handshake.

“Friends?” you chirped.

His hand wrapped around yours, the texture of it shocking you as you were expecting a cold and hard store mannequin hand when instead, your palm pressed easily into his, the texture of his synthetic skin pliant and warm. If that wasn’t overwhelming enough, his other hand covered yours and held it in place.

“Friends,” he agreed, brown eyes bubbling over in joy.

Oh, you were in trouble.

As per the list of friend-zone friendly activities, video games and board games were entertaining for a day or two and with the great outdoors still being off the list—you were running out of ideas when Connor suggested a movie.

A movie. Hmm.

You pondered the choice while staring out the windows. The snowstorm had ended earlier in the day, the skies clear enough to allow the colors of a setting sun to paint the interior of the home and with it, your mood had significantly lifted. It helped that Connor was better company now that he was 3D and could move himself from one room to the next.

It seemed like ages ago you were worried about something.

Oh right.

Not only was the cell tower still out of service, the home lacked internet as well. So you were out of luck with no streaming services but you did manage to find some offline movies. Most of the genres wouldn’t load and you chalked it up to buggy downloads. The only section available was a romance trap as every title featured some windswept heroine and her oiled up muscular companion.

“Wait,” Connor said. “May we try this one?”

You gulped down the bit of wine that you held in your cheeks like a chipmunk and placed the finished glass on a nearby end table. For better or worse, each gulp eased your mind about a movie night with a gorgeous android.

When your eyes landed on the movie selection, it wouldn’t take a genius to see why he was drawn to it. The promo image had a woman in the embrace of a metal limbed machine with a dark and dramatically lit backdrop. From what you could gather in the summary, it was some post apocalyptic world where machines ruled and the main character against all common sense, saved the android, thus spiraling into a forbidden love story. It must have been some indie film or a new blockbuster because you’ve never seen it before.

“It’s topical at least,” you joked.

Connor was practically buzzing with excitement when you highlighted the play button.

The movie was everything you imagined a cheesy low budget film to be—dramatic monologues, obvious green screened environments and one very attractive damsel in distress. It didn’t seem to bother Connor, his LED churning happily while the plot unveiled itself.

As the last of the sun disappeared behind a thick forest, the living room darkened and cooled. Either it was the dimness of the room or the heat the android was outputting, a drowsiness coursed through your body and you slumped your head onto his shoulder.

“Are you comfortable?” Connor asked.

At the sound of his voice, you tensed and jolted back upright.

“Mmm? I’m good.”

He leaned closer to you and glided his hands up your arms, stopping at your shoulders.

“What—oh…” you said.

His fingers dug easily into your muscles, kneading spots that made you involuntary moan. The android rearranged himself behind you and the moment his heated chest met your back, you melted into him.

You couldn’t recall the last time you’ve been engulfed by the warmth and give of another body. Even if Connor wasn’t human, he felt…incredible. His chest rose and fell, a hot—but not moist—artificial breath tickled your neck.

He seemed to have been affected by a similar need, the tendons on his arms flexing as he gripped you tighter.

“Mmm! R-right there,” you gasped.

He made a sound of acknowledgment, continuing to relax your muscles while absorbing all the soft moans that followed. His fingers knew where to push like he could read all of you—like he’s known it before.

“You feel so good,” he murmured as he worked out a spot that made you see stars.

Loud explosions rattled out of the theater system but that wasn’t what you were focused on, not when his lips warmed the shell of your ear.

“I want to hear those sounds again,” he said.

A tingle pulled at your nerves, one that wasn’t caused by his massaging efforts.

“Mmm. Is this still considered part of your friendly banter?” you said with an amused huff.

He leaned in so his face was parallel to yours, his cheek a mere centimeter from touching yours. The hands on your back roamed lower and you were sure your hips didn’t need massaging.

“We are conversing,” he purred into your ear.

Fuck. The truth was becoming undeniable the longer you spent time with Connor—and the more the wine made your inhibitions go out the window—you wanted his touch. It didn’t help matters when the lovers in the movie were beginning to make moves on each other.

A steamy scene was unfolding before you, the camera panning from a metal arm stroking the actress’ thighs to her companion’s robotic face.

“Don’t be afraid,” the machine cooed. “I won’t hurt you.”

“I’m not…I…I’m afraid of how much I want this,” the actress replied.

The cringe was enough to distract you from Connor’s wandering hands.

“God, that’s so cheesy,” you snorted.

You wanted to laugh more at it but when you turned your head back at Connor, he looked absolutely enraptured, LED swirling like he was taking notes. You glanced between him and the movie where both characters were now mashing their lips together.

“Connor?”

Brown eyes slowly peeled away from the screen to your face.

“I want to kiss you,” he bluntly stated.

“W-what?”

Perhaps, Connor was too believable, with his lips parted and eyes affixed on your mouth. His strange charms combined with a human body could fool anyone but you couldn’t shake that rational bit of you that doubted freewill played a part in his intentions. You had to remind yourself this was programming running to fulfill your needs and he likely had no idea what he was asking for.

“Please…” he added, his machine eyes likely catching your spike in anxiety. He soothed your arms with gentle strokes like he was calming a wild animal. “There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

“Connor,” you breathed out and tried twisting away from his grasp but your efforts only wrinkled his shirt. Damn, he was strong. “I-it’s not that. I don’t know if you want this…or if you’re capable of wanting.”

“I do,” he said with a strained voice and a crimson LED. He became more animated, chocolate eyes melting into yours with a spark of need. “Please, I want to make you feel good. Will you let me?”

His nose grazed over yours, the contact brief but thrilling—the last strike on a match.

“Okay,” you exhaled. “Yes.”

His lips tugged upwards, pale pink pulling apart over a straight white line of perfect teeth. Slowly, his hands came up to your face, stroking the skin across your jaw and squeezing your warm cheeks.

“You’re beautiful,” he whispered as he dipped his mouth near yours. “So delicate...”

His nose dug into the side of your face and he whined.

“…and so soft,” he groaned and laid a fluttery kiss on your lips, barely brushing the firm texture of his lips on yours.

It all felt so new, like you’d never kissed anyone this way before. Beneath his gentle curiosity laid a darker, hungrier passion. One hand worked it’s way into your hair and the other kept a firm grip on your face. You lips parted at the sudden pressure on the back of your head, the android moaning as his tongue pushed into your mouth.

Initially, you weren’t sure how much of this he could possibly enjoy. There was a chance you were projecting humanity onto a machine. Your understanding of how he was designed was half from his explanations and half whatever you gathered from science fiction. Connor didn’t have a heart, but a mechanical equivalent pumped and pounded in a rhythm that made him feel alive. The combination of his vocal feedback and his assertiveness—the dull sharpness of his nails on your jaw and the not so subtle hardness that pressed against your thigh—all challenged your assumptions that this was just for show.

An urgent, needy whine came from the machine while his hands wandered down your shirt. His thumbs pushed your shirt up your rib cage, the pads of his fingers brushing over your hardened nipples. You moaned when he experimentally rolled them between his fingers.

“I…I want to feel more of you,” he gasped with a pointed look that fell lower down your body.

You smiled, moving his hands to the hem of your shirt and coaxing him to slip it over your head. You discarded it to the side and resumed guiding his fingers into the waistband of your leggings and underwear, the two items quickly joining the floor pile.

Machine or man, he had the same weaknesses, his hands instantly coming back to cup and knead your breasts. You leaned into his touch, earning you a soft smile as his fingers traveled lower over your abdomen.

“Show me how to touch you,” he said while coaxing your thighs open. He bent one of your legs and held it up, leaving the other to dangle off the edge of the sofa with your foot resting on the area rug below. Your hand wrapped around his wrist, slowly leading him until his fingers brushed over the tender nerves above your sex.

“Here?” He leaned over to watch his fingers move in featherlight strokes as you tensed in his arms. “How does that feel?”

“G-good,” you gasped.

A louder moan squeaked through your lips as his fingers began applying more pressure. Your head fell back into his biceps as he cradled you closer to his chest with a soothing hum.

He experimented with shifting his fingers lower and higher. A warm palm pushed your cheek to line your vision up with his. Thick brown lashes curtained over his lust blackened eyes, doing little to diffuse the intensity of his stare.

You were so lost in the splendor of his face, hypnotized by his swirling indicator that you barely noticed fingers tracing over your folds. Your skin burned, body aching for more which thankfully, the perceptive android noticed.

“I need…”

“I know. Y-you…you’re so wet. I have to…”

He trailed off and slid down your torso, sucking and licking your skin on his way down. His hands roamed over your curves. One dove between your thighs and the other over your hips, pinning your pelvis down. There was a flash of blue light as the skin on his hands shifted to white plastic, a reminder of what he was. He described it as interfacing, a method used for machines to talk to one another.

You wondered if he felt more with it, his electric whines growing more insistent, the palm on your abdomen digging into your flesh.

“May I—“ he said.

“C-Connor. Please.”

The rubbery pads of his plastic fingers buzzed with energy as he collected your slick. He pushed one glowing finger in, watching intensely as the light disappeared. Curiously, he brought his mouth between your thighs, nose pushing into your pelvis as he sealed his lips over your swollen bud.

“Fuck!” you cried.

If you thought you were loud, his wet, sucking moans alone were enough to shatter the coil building in your abdomen. You had to brace yourself by gripping the sofa and slinging your other arm over your face to muffle your choked sobs.

He added a second finger, curling them into you, quickly finding spots that made your hands abandon the sofa for his hair. You wish you had thought to run your hands through it earlier, the soft fibers spilling between your fingers like water. When you pulled hard enough for it to sting for a human man, the android doubled down on his efforts, tongue flicking and lapping at a frenzied pace. You jolted, unable to stop your hips from following his mouth.

He pulled away, drawing swirls over your swollen bud with his thumb. A third finger pushed in right as his thumb began buzzing.

“I would do anything for you, all you have to do is ask,” he offered.

“Con…nor,” you panted and writhed, unable to budge from his grasp.

He kissed the spot above his thumb and a more determined look sharpened his features. “Ask me.”

“Please. Please, make me feel good—”

His mouth latched back onto you with a new sense of purpose, eager to fulfill your command. He had a tongue unlike any human man, the appendage capable of flexing into precise, pinpoint shapes and drilling into the most sensitive parts of your nerves.

Your head rolled to the side, hot burning cheek pressing into the couch, blurry eyes barely able to make out the black void of night just outside. The only light on the property was from the living room fireplace, it’s orange flames reflecting off the windows. You’d never been more grateful for the lack of an audience, wondering how obscene you must look with your thighs quaking around an android’s head, your screams silent on the other side of the glass. The movie had reached its own crescendo of sorts, a French horn filled fanfare tooting the sounds of victory as the two leading characters shared a romantic kiss.

None of it mattered.

You had Connor.

“Ah…! C-Con…It’s too much!”

His tongue flicked and swirled while he stared back up at you with a wickedness that implied he didn’t have to listen to you. You clenched around his fingers, already feeling incredibly full and over stimulated.

“Connor…!”

But he did listen, rising up to his elbows and licking his lips.

“You’re sweet…like the cherries you’ve described to me,” he said.

Your eyes widened marginally when he brought his fingers to his mouth and cleaned off each digit. An idea came to mind, feeling inspired by his lewd slurping.

“Is it okay if I try something?” you asked.

He seemed to catch the sexual undertones of your question, the android sitting up to attention with a warm smile.

“Yes.”

You moved off the sofa, sinking your knees into the plush rug below. Your hands slid up his legs, the muscles tensed and rounded as your palms flattened around the tops of his thighs.

“Can you take your shirt off for me?” you asked while removing his belt.

He was somehow faster than you were with his pants, a blur of white drifting to the ground in your periphery. You coaxed him to lift his hips, taking your time to pull the last of his clothes off.

“Holy shit,” you gasped.

He was thick, pink and dripping in anticipation. Not a single detail was spared, no effort wasted in making him as perfect as possible everywhere. You risked ruining the mood if you thought too hard about a certain someone’s involvement with his creation.

So you didn’t.

You gently palmed at his cock, coating your hand in his lubricant, not missing how his hips immediately bucked forward. A noise like a broken radio rumbled from his chassis and it took a few more languid strokes before you recognized that it was a good sound.

Your hands lowered down his length, making room for your mouth. Tongue out, jaw nearly unhinged—you slipped him past your lips, savoring the sweet and salty taste of his precum. It reminded you of something, like butterscotch or salted caramel. Either way, you couldn’t stop wanting to taste more of him.

A higher pitched whine joined the static as he moaned out your name with a stuttering voice box. His hands gripped the back of your head, thankfully not as roughly as you’ve gripped his, just firm enough to ground him. He was throbbing between your lips, his taste coating your tongue the closer he was getting.

His reactions were so genuine, so animal, his hips jolting when you hollowed your cheeks and used your hands to stroke what didn’t fit. He was struggling to stay on the sofa without bucking you off of him, the android torn between wanting more and less. When you surprised him by shoving him down your throat, an unholy collection of inhuman sounds echoed across the empty house. It was all the warning you had before he came down your throat, pulling his hips back so the rest of it could pool in your mouth. There was definitely something addicting about the way he tasted as you wasted no time in swallowing every drop.

You had some filthy joke about how he’d pair well with your morning coffee when he leaned forward and pulled you up onto his lap. He was still so hard, the length of his arousal pressing into your abdomen. Oddly enough, he didn’t seem interested in pursuing more, the android capturing your lips in a gentle kiss. Your face was encased by plastic hands as he pressed his forehead to yours.

“Thank you,” he said.

If not for his sincerity, you may have laughed.

“Anytime,” you said right back with a grin. Although, in hindsight, maybe not a good joke for the machine with no refractory period.

A pair of arms wrapped around you, his LED flickering as the fireplace and television turned off. The home was once again, pitch black.

“You need your rest,” he said, lifting you off the couch.

Easily swayed by suggestion and a series of sleepless nights with strange dreams, your body gave in and you nuzzled closer to his bare chest, lulled further to sleep by the sound of a Thirium pump pounding away beneath the plastic. Your eyes shut and somewhere between drowsy blinks, you were in your room and tucked into your bed with an android following suit.

You were too out of it to notice his hands never left your side to open your door.

“I’ll see you in the morning,” he said from behind you, laying a kiss on your cheek before making movements to resume the distance you’ve requested while sharing a bed.

“Connor,” you mumbled, your mouth half pushed to the side from how deep your cheek was in your pillow.

“Yes?”

“Come…cuddle.”

Your eyelids were lead weights, the world already turning to static but you still managed feel his body slide up against yours and the heavy weight of his arm as he pulled you tight against him. You think you slurred a thank you and he may have responded but you were already deep asleep.

With the storm cleared, the blue splendor of night once again graced your room. A warm golden hue joined the soothing palette, it’s color originating from a glowing circle.

Connor’s lips moved, but no sounds came out, his mouth forming a single sentence.

“Yes, she’s resting now.”

Outside the home, a trail, rough and unfinished wrapped around thick trees and ended on a clearing. There, energy crackled around metal disguised as a tree.

A working cell tower, standing tall in the middle of a forest.

#my writing #detroit become human #dbh fanfic #dbh connor #rk800 #reader insert #connor x reader #connor rk800 x reader #dollhouse

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